Mischief's Child
by Lyn Harkeran
Summary: AU: When the Wicked Witch of the West imprisons Rumpelstiltskin he uses his magic to ask for help from someone who knows the ups and downs of his dagger better than anyone. The one who created it thousands of years before he was born. The most powerful magic user in any realm: The one and only God of Mischief. Loki/Rumple friendship no pairing


**Mischief's Child**

* * *

Loki heard it, first in a whisper and then in a loud cry of anguish. Oh yes, he most definitely heard the call. But due to the fact it had started as nothing more than a hum on the wind, he ignored it. Believing the sound to have been a moment's fancy, something his imagination had concocted for the lack of something more amusing.

But then several days later when the hum had turned into a nerve-wracking echo, the God had no choice but to give it his attention.

With keen blue-green eyes he scanned the realms, using his ultimate knowledge in magical arts to track the noise. It took him nearly a full day of soul sifting before he was finally able to pinpoint the direct source. He had known it was important when the call hadn't subsided, but Loki hadn't had a clue just how serious it truly was.

The sight that met him wasn't something he had ever expected to see, and it made his hands clench into deathly pale fists.

The cry was coming from the Midgardian Realm, in a secluded little hamlet that boasted a stronger magical aura than nearly the whole world put together. And though the initial spot was fast in find, it took far longer to see the actual location in accurate detail. But when Loki was finally able to focus his far-seeing gaze, he noted that the actual sound came from within a dark cage in a seemingly forgotten cellar. And as the picture fully settled, a soft cry escaped Loki's lips, for he _knew _the noise maker personally.

It was the Enchanted Forests' Dark One.

It was one of the most powerful beings in all the realms, himself included.

The man in the cage was _Rumpelstiltskin_.

But then again it wasn't Rumpelstiltskin . . . Not really. For the Dark One was a being of known intellect and cunning, a will user of the highest degree. And the sorry excuse for a human that resided in the damp cage wasn't anything more than a shell; a raving and desperate lunatic.

The sight was sickening to the God of Mischief, and he wanted nothing more than to turn away. But found that when he tried to shut his eyes, the horrific nightmare stayed with him . . . and continued to cause him physical pain of an indescribable nature.

The reason for this was simple: Rumpelstiltskin the mighty Dark One was Loki's child. Not by birth or even by upbringing, but by their magical bond. For it was Loki who had created the Dark One's Dagger. It was the God of Mischief that had given desperate souls the ultimate tools of power, and as such, he was the father of all those who used such relics. The Trickster was the mentor of all those magical ones who had sold their souls for power and vengeance. And he secretly cared and watched over them all.

But Loki's pain went even further than this, because he had personally trained the man who currently sat hunched in a corner, jabbering to himself in unstable rhymes. He had taught, and guided, and nurtured Rumpelstiltskin's magic over the years, and had been proud of his pupils' accomplishments. He had been pleased and contented with the scaly mages' firm grasp of the ancient laws_._

And now, it was his child- _his_ Dark One- that currently asked for help; using the bond of the Dagger to call out to him.

Rumpelstiltskin pleaded for release of his cage or his life, and Loki knew that he would oblige his favorite protege. But not before he knew the full situation.

The God continued to watch his child for quite some time, burdened by what he was forced to witness. But he observed and listened despite the pain, and grew an almost vicious hate for the Dark One's captor.

He watched Rumple spin straw for endless hours, singing ditties and cryptic rhymes as he went. And he watched the madness consume him.

_"You feed the madness and it feeds on you! Cleans the mind and soothes the soul! _

_You feed the madness and it feeds on you! Let me spin! Yes, spin away!_

_You feed the madness and it feeds on you~!_

_. . . And all the voices in my head . . . will be quiet when I'm dead. . ."_

Loki felt his despair grow with Rumples', and finally made the decision to act. With a lengthy stride and a heart turned cold as ice, the God stalked to his secret passageways and in a zip of rainbow colored fractals he was gone.

* * *

Loki entered the farm house in a flash of neon green light, and was immediately spurred into action. He had perfected his plan before he had arrived, and now he struck with the dexterity and precision of a viper.

The witch - Zelena of Oz- would have been a very formidable foe had the Trickster been in the mood for a fight. But he _wasn't._

Loki cornered her silently, and when her back was turned to him, the God went in for a killing blow. She never saw him coming, never knew that she was meant for the reaper until she saw her own heart held in the hand of another. And as she cried out bitterly for mercy, the Trickster laughed.

"Mercy? For the likes of you, witch? Where was your mercy when the Dark One beseeched you?"

"He used me," she spat between gasps for air, as Loki squeezed her heart almost to the breaking point. "He should have loved me! He should have chosen me to cast his curse!"

Loki sneered as he leaned down to meet her gaze and Zelena recognized the absolute wrath burning within them.

"He saw your weakness," Loki murmured quietly, making him all the more terrifying as he grazed her cheek with his graceful forefinger. "He saw that were useless to him and chose your sister due to the talent you lack."

"I-It should have been me," Zelena coughed as she collapsed to the kitchen tile. "It should have been- m-me. . ."

"No, my dear," Loki disagreed, flexing his palm to crush the beating black orb in his hand. "Your destiny was written long ago. You were made to be the supplement; unnecessary and unwanted."

Zelena looked up with wide eyes, clutching her chest as Loki crushed her heart, killing her without the slightest hint of remorse.

With cold eyes he watched as the witch's body grew completely still, and stiffly let the black residue of her heart slip through the crevices of his fingers. Killing people by way of taking their heart wasn't Loki's way of doing things. But seeing as it was one of Rumple's favorite methods, he deemed it appropriate for the woman who had caused the Dark One so much pain.

As the last of the black grains fell to the floor, Loki stretched out his left hand and closed his eyes. Within seconds of doing so, a brilliant green smoke enveloped his lithe figure, swirling around him like a lover would, and making him smile for the first time in what felt like ages. And when the smoke had cleared, the God of Mischief held within his hand the mythical Dagger of the Dark One. He gazed upon the beautifully etched knife for several long moments- remembering when he had first crafted it and why- before he strode to the door.

Loki might have been the one who made the Dagger, but it belonged to someone else.

With sturdy steps the God made his way past the farm house, into the free space of tall grass, and then down into the bleak cellar. He entered silently, and came to stand before the cage at the back wall, addressing the man housed there with a soft, affectionate voice.

"Rumpelstiltskin, my friend- it appears that dismal days have found you."

The man dressed in matted clothes, with graying hair sticking up on end, shifted his brown eyes to Loki, and an unnatural smile spread across his features.

"Dismal, abysmal, broken seams! No more happiness, no more dreams!"

Rumpelstiltskin had always been whimsical- a quality that he and Loki shared- but in that moment there was nothing whimsical about the mages' words. Nothing teasing, or ecstatic, or meaningful: it was only noise. The noise and refuse of a man who had been shattered and replaced with something else. And Loki wouldn't stand for it.

With a quirking of his eyebrow, Loki made the cage door fly open, and without a thought he entered the space.

Rumpelstiltskin watched him curiously before he chirped, "Come to join the ranks, little parsnip? Ranks of the damned and the mad? Come to join the parade!?"

"Quite the opposite," Loki replied calmly as he held out the Dagger to him. "We're leaving, together."

Rumpelstiltskin's eyes seemed to focus for the first time as he drew in a shaky breath.

"Freedom in Steel, freedom in steel."

"Take what is yours, child," Loki said soothingly, extending his hand even further. "You are your own master once more."

For a moment Rumpelstiltskin merely stared at the knife, but then he reached for it- several tears running down his gaunt cheeks and spilling past the tip of his nose. He took the dagger in his hand and as soon as he did, light and intelligence once more shone through his eyes. And looking upon him, Loki knew that his _Dark_ _One_ had returned.

Rumpelstiltskin beheld his surroundings with overwhelmed and dazed eyes, as if he was seeing the cellar for the first time. And when his eyes came to settle on Loki, he actually smiled- though it showed his fatigue and strain quite openly.

"You heard me when I called you."

"As I always have," Loki said, as he smiled too. "You _are _my favorite child."

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled quietly, and was about to reply when his eyes grew dark again and he swayed dangerously on his feet. He would have fallen to his knees if Loki hadn't moved forward to catch him. The Trickster easily supported most of the man's weight as he asked, "Are your thoughts still clouded?"

Rumple nodded once. "Things are a bit . . . _fuzzy_. I'm seeing too much."

"Of the future?"

"And the past," Rumpelstiltskin added painfully, cringing as more things flooded into his weary mind. "It's all too fast and blurred. . . It's never been this jumbled."

"It's what remains of the witch's hold over you," Loki explained. "Though it can be abolished easily enough."

The two beings shared a meaningful look, passing information back and forth to one-another with little more than a blinking of an eye, before Rumpelstiltskin glanced at the spinning wheel in the corner. It was obvious what he needed to do.

Still holding onto his mentor, the Dark One lifted his dagger and moved it in a cutting motion over his head. At the direction of his magic, the spinning wheel began to smoke and hiss- cracking piece by piece until it was only chunks of wood. Then, Rumple snapped his fingers and the remains of the wheel began to burn in a purple tinted flame.

With each passing second, Rumple became more himself. With each piece of wood destroyed he regained his power, and by the time the spinning wheel was no more, he was back to his normal state of mind. The only traces of his stint with Zelena were the dark circles beneath his eyes and the slight shaking of his hands. Small prices to pay, all things considered.

"You are once more free, Rumpelstiltskin," Loki said, reaching out to embrace his child. "Welcome back, my friend."

The weary Dark One returned the hug with a relieved laugh. "It's good to be back, dearie. . . So very good to _be _back."

* * *

_**A/N:** _Another gift for a friend, who wanted a story with both Loki and Rumple. ^^ ^The girl's got fabulous taste! Any story with these awe-inspiring fellows is bound to be awesome-sauce, right? XD lol

Anyway, I hope you guys liked it! Were Loki, Rumple, and Zelena in-character? Was the writing good? I sometimes get so lost in what I see in my head that I don't do a good job with making you guys understand/see my vision as well. ^^;

Love you guys!

_**~Lyn Harkeran**_


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